A Very Demon Christmas [Demon Hunters 1] (13 page)

Belinda frowned. “Much as I'd love a hot cup, I'm not sure we should leave. If Colin comes back and we're gone... Well, let's just say an upset demon isn't any fun."

"He's only half demon."

"When it comes to you, he's all demon."

Holly smiled, pleased at the thought, and acquiesced. “You know best. He has water, beer, and scotch. What can I fix for you?"

"How far away is your place?"

"Right across the hall."

"Handy.” Belinda rummaged in her backpack. “Let's risk it. But we better leave him a note so he knows where we've gone."

Holly accepted the pen and notepad and scrawled,
Having a cup of tea at my place. Be right back.
She hesitated, then added a row of hugs and kisses before signing her name. Where to leave the note that Colin would be sure to see it? After a moment of thought, she settled for taping the folded paper on the bathroom door. She checked before pulling the door closed behind them, the note was clearly visible from the entrance. Reassured, she locked the door, crossed the hall, and opened her apartment to welcome her new friend.

"I'm going to slip into something more decent. Make yourself at home, please.” Holly scurried to her bedroom, shrugged off Colin's robe, and tucked it under her pillow so she could fall asleep with his delicious smell scenting her dreams. Then she struggled out of the bustier, skimmed off the panties, and yanked on her pj bottoms, a baggy henley, and scuffled on the bright green dragon slippers.

Once they were settled on the couch and Holly had poured them each a cup of tea, Belinda took hers and blew across the steaming liquid. “Are you going to mate Colin?"

Holly set the down the tea she'd just picked up. “I don't even know what that means."

"Typical male. He didn't tell you any of the important stuff.” Belinda took a small sip. “Colin is already bound to you. But you won't be bonded until the two of you make love while you're ovulating. So you still have a choice."

Sensing she was still missing important information, Holly asked, “What happens if I don't mate him?"

"You will have your choice of a whole bunch of incredibly beautiful and very horny males. Female demons, before you ask—yes, even part-demon females—are very rare and very much in demand. Colin will be in utter misery. He will eventually go mad from wanting you but not having you. Loss of a mate is the most common reason demons go rogue."

Holly took too big a gulp of her tea. The scalding liquid burned all the way down her throat. When she could speak, she croaked, “Then this rogue he's hunting is a poor male who's been driven crazy by the loss of his mate?"

"Probably,” Belinda said quietly. “Sad, isn't it? But there's no other solution. The rogues are insane and a danger to everyone. Killing them is the only way to stop the rampage."

"What about females—don't they ever go rogue?"

Belinda shook her head. “Not really. They grieve, they can lash out in anger, but I've never heard of one permanently losing her sanity."

"I still don't completely understand. Why would Colin lose his mind just because we aren't together if he's knows I'm still alive?"

"A mated male needs his female—her touch, her voice, her scent—everything about her grounds him and keeps him sane. Without her influence, his connection to honor, society, and life crumbles. The process is permanent and irreversible. Whether he loses her to death or she just refuses to be with him makes no difference."

Oh. My. Dear. God.
Holly sat stunned by Belinda's explanation and the truth she sensed underlying the inescapable words. Holly had fallen through a hole in the fabric of reality, and everything she'd always believed about herself and the world had changed.

"If there were any choice other than death, believe me, every demon hunter would fall down on his knees to give thanks. You know Colin, at least a little..."

Holly heard Belinda and nodded. She knew him a lot in some ways; the fiery glint in his eyes when he wanted her, the stern deep voice of utter command...

She jerked back to full awareness as Belinda spoke again.

"He's a male of honor. You can't think for even a second that it didn't rip his heart apart to take out Thad."

"Thad?"

The witch rolled her eyes in disgust. “He didn't tell you a damn thing about tonight's first death match, did he?"

"No, not really.” Holly's voice sank. “Is that what rogue hunting is—a death match?"

"Yes, and the description is accurate. The fights are always a battle between the hunter and the rogue, and the outcome is always death."

Dizziness gripped Holly and she closed her eyes, but this didn't shut out the bleak hopelessness in Belinda's tone or own her fears. What kind of choice had she been given? Mate with Colin, or else he went insane. Even if they mated, he would keep killing rogues until he lost one of those brutal death matches.

"Put your head between your knees,” Belinda ordered, and when Holly obeyed, the witch rubbed her back. “I'm sorry this upsets you, but you need to know what happened in order to understand Colin. Thad was another demon hunter. They're all close—like human brothers, only more so. There are only eight, seven now with Thad gone, warriors in the cadre."

Belinda was quiet for so long that Holly lifted her head. Her new friend, the witch, stared blindly at Treeland's twinkling lights. At last, she said, “Colin and Thad were more than close. Collin was Thad's second at his mating ceremony. Colin toasted them at their anniversary party a few days ago. Colin and Thad sparred most days. They worked out together yesterday. I know, because I saw them on the cadre's training floor."

"Friends—good friends,” Holly murmured, trembling in empathetic agony for the loss Colin had suffered.

A horrible shriek ripped through the night, interrupting their conversation and sending icy tendrils of danger down Holly's spine. The sound had been too close to be outside the building. She rose to her feet, listening to another wail of soul-twisting pain repeat, then pounding, the creak of wood, and a crash. That was right next door.

Fear accelerated her heart rate and shouted a name.
Colin.

Holly dashed for the door. Belinda wasn't quick enough to stop her. The witch caught a handful of Holly's loose shirt and hung on while they flew out of the apartment.

Colin's front door hung askew, the frame splintered where the wood had given way around the deadbolt.

[Back to Table of Contents]

The smell of demon blood stung Colin's nose. He snorted to clear his sinuses and tried to shake the sadness slowing his steps as he squinted at the shadows. Movement accelerated his pulse. A frightened rat scuttled across the service alley, headed for the shelter of the deli's garbage container.

On high alert, Colin prowled deeper into the narrow passage of the concrete warren. The buildings were interchangeable warehouses, business services, and sales offices. The west end of the business strip's back side was studded with loading docks, Dumpsters, and stumpy half flights of stairs. In contrast, the one-story east side of the alley was lined with metal doors and mesh-guarded windows. A teriyaki container tumbled to a stop in the frozen slush covering the asphalt. A parked security van blocked his forward view.

No bodies or blood stained the gray snow. Colin inhaled again, sifting through oil spills, old diesel fumes, and rotting trash to catch the unmistakable taint of demon blood. Was he dealing with a wounded civilian, a rogue, or both?

He stalked ahead, silent and ready.

Tingles of fresh danger raised goose bumps on the back of his neck. Memories of Thad assaulted him. He scrubbed away sudden, angry tears and fought to distance himself. Using his connection to Holly, he finally slammed the lid on the pain distracting him from the mission.

If the sighting was an actual rogue, then it was no longer a male of honor. It was a raging monster that had to be eliminated—a sanctioned target. Re-centered, Colin loosened his arms and became the perfect hunter—100 percent focused on his prey.

Something—more a ripple of air than actual sound—made him duck and whirl. His throwing dagger slapped into his palm, ready to fly.

Lethal talons slashed where his head had been a second earlier. He rolled to his left and avoided the follow up strike that would have decapitated him.

The creature bellowed with pain and outrage. The sharp metallic odor of demon blood blended with goblin stench. One scaly arm pressed against its abdomen was the only thing keeping its guts from spilling. The scent of blood came from the horrendous wound low on its belly—a fatal injury. He couldn't believe it still managed to walk, let alone attack.

For a second, his eyes locked with the monster's gaze. He recognized Zinja. Icy shock settled into his veins as he finally realized what must have happened. The goblins had torn her young from the pregnant demon's belly and eaten it while she watched. Horror and pity engulfed him, slowing his reflexes.

The only thing that saved him from her next swipe was that her head angled away. She rasped in a ragged breath and shrieked a wail of pain and vengeance. Then she charged.

His dagger flew too late.

Dimly, he heard the crack of her death blow, slammed into the pavement, and felt the cold slush leeching the warmth from his back. With his last breath, he whispered a prayer for a second lifetime as Holly's mate.

Then blackness.

Colin woke in the alley. When he pushed to his feet, his head throbbed like someone was drilling through his skull. The smallest movement made gorge rise in his throat. For long seconds, he leaned against a loading dock. He carefully probed the dinosaur-sized lump on the back of his head and tried to remember what the hell had happened. He swallowed back rising bile, but nausea won, and he retched in the dirty snow. A small pool of demon blood snapped his memory back to the attack. Not a rogue, something more dangerous—a female demon, already one of the walking dead, berserk with grief, and bent on exacting vengeance.

"Hey, buddy, better take it easy. That scaly thing did a real number on you. Never saw anything like it. Don't mind telling you that it scared the crap out of me. “ A security guard peered at Colin, holding a cell phone pressed to his ear. “I'm holding for 911."

"How long ago?” Colin rasped.

The guard checked his watch. “Five minutes tops."

Colin closed his eyes, carefully sorted through the human's thoughts, and locked on the images of Zinja. After he'd determined which direction she'd gone, he buried the guard's recollections of the giant reptile's attack beneath a recent memory of a night with too many brews, anchovy pizza, and watching
King Kong v. Godzilla
.

When Colin had finished, the man canceled his call to 911 and walked away, mumbling, “Past time for my coffee break."

While Colin watched, the guard got in his van and drove out of the alley. A flash of absolute gut-wrenching clarity told Colin why Zinja had left him alive. She'd smelled Holly and knew killing his mate would hurt him more than his own death. Once his reason for living was gone, he'd turn rogue and be executed. For Zinja, that would be perfect justice.

No way. No how. Not happening. Not while he drew breath. He spit out the last of the bile, scrubbed his mouth with a scoop of unstained snow, and snatched his dagger from the slush as he lengthened his stride into a flat-out sprint for Holly.

Ignoring the wrecking crew at work inside his skull, he reached deep for demon speed and found a new reservoir of power.

Within minutes, he careened through the condo's entrance. Unwilling to wait for the elevator, he yanked open the stairwell door and took the steps three at a time. The throbbing in his head had dulled to an ache—easier to ignore. Terror-fueled demon power coursed through him, turning his legs into steel pistons that devoured the flights in record time.

His thoughts raced even faster, supplying a steady stream of pure fear.
Five minutes huge head start at demon speed. Can Belinda hold off Zinja's attack? Is Holly alive? She has to be, or I would have felt her death through the mating bond. Wouldn't I?

On every floor, including the ninth, the stairwell door was locked, accessible only from the building's interior. The metal frame buckled and cracked under the strain of his grip. Finally the bent metal parted. One step into the hall, his full attention zeroed in on the wrecked entrance to his apartment.

Too damn late. Zinja won.

Paralyzing guilt and pain threatened to swamp him. So strong and sharp, his heart clenched as if he'd been slashed by the same demon claws that had attacked his front door. He'd failed his mate. And he was too much of a pathetic coward to take care of his final duties—hunting down her killer and properly disposing of Belinda's and Holly's shredded bodies.

Head throbbing, beyond exhausted, and heartsore, Colin swiped at the sweat dripping into his eyes and reached deeper one more time. Forcing himself into a sprint, he shut out the protest of abused muscles and pounded leaden legs into the nightmare of destruction.

"Wait...cast...spell."

Holly heard Belinda's urgency in the background as she tore across the hall, but she didn't have any time for negotiating with the witch. Slowing down to listen to whatever Belinda wanted to tell her wasn't an option. Not now, when every sense screamed Colin was in danger.

Panting for breath, she frantically scanned the disaster area where Colin's pristine living room had been. Blood-splattered footprints that would've thrilled Sasquatch freaks had trampled the cashmere throw and trailed down the hall toward the bedrooms. The note she'd taped to the bathroom door was missing.

Beside her, Belinda chanted steadily in some language Holly didn't understand. Her feet felt as if they'd been superglued to the carpet. She twisted to tell the witch to stop.

Golden eyes eerily like a cat's pitiless orbs, except these were ten times bigger, snared Holly's free will and tossed it beyond her reach. Helpless to act, she watched the beautiful monster move forward in a graceful glide that seemed effortless. Mesmerized by the gleaming copper scales coating an obviously female form, Holly stared until her gaze dropped below the beast's proud breasts to a gruesome injury.